


Hope in the Dark

by Lisacreature



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Magic, Male Slash, Pottertalia, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 05:06:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3107171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisacreature/pseuds/Lisacreature
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A war is approaching, Alfred's in love and Arthur has to decide who to fight with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hope in the Dark

_My dear boy,_

  
_Please, please come home! How can you turn your back on your own family? Your loyalty should be to your own flesh and blood, to those who raised you and loved you, not those Mudbloods and Blood traitors! We will still welcome you with open arms; you have no need to fear anger or bitterness from us._   
_Your darling older brother, George, has flown the nest and has done the admirable task and has joined the Dark Lords army, he is now a happy and loyal Death Eater. Cameron and Ryan are quickly joining him, the Dark Lord is most pleased with us and he promises to reward us once the war has been won._   
_I do hope you are not encouraging Peter to befriend Mudbloods and Half-blood’s and friends of Albus Dumbledore, he is not to be corrupted by your ilk._   
_Oh I do wish you came to reason, in these dangerous times for us Purebloods family is most important and the Dark Lord will reward us for our loyalty. I do not wish to see you be punished by him when that time comes._   
_Please reply promptly_   
_Your loving Mother._

  
Xxx

  
Professor Arthur Kirkland crumpled up the letter in his fist, a frown plastered on his pale face, his dark green eyes shadowed by his furrowed bushy, brows.  
His family had always been proud Purebloods. They stood amongst the Malfoy’s and the Blacks as one of the oldest and noblest of Pureblood families. The Kirkland family went back to the Saxon monarchs of old.

  
However, Arthur was the black sheep of the family. He never understood the inbreeding system and snobbery which was very fashionable amongst Pureblood families. Since Arthur first attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry he often rebelled against his childhood teachings and befriended Muggleborns and Halfbloods. When Arthur returned home, he was often punished for his friendliness towards those who were seen as inferior, and many a time a house elf would receive a smelly and dirty sock or worse. Some punishments were inflicted directly onto him, a few childhood scars remained on Arthur’s skin from a few ‘reformatory lessons’ his beloved and dearly departed Father had graced him with.

  
Memories of upsetting scenes and images from his childhood and adolescence flashed into his mind as if someone was casting a lumos spell inside him, illuminating dark and forbidden corners. Arthur shook his head, as if to physically remove the memories through his ears.

  
The letter flew across the room and landed ungracefully onto the cold stone floor; Arthur did not deem it worthy to be placed onto his desk and without hesitation set the letter aflame and watched with a sneer on his face as the letter disintegrated into grey, white and black ashes. Arthur then marched out of his office and into the classroom below, it was early morning and classes had yet to begin, his stomach grumbled to remind him of the most important meal of the day, and so he walked down the chilly stone corridors towards the Great Hall.

  
The Hall was alight with a warm glow and winter appeared to be closing in a lot earlier than everyone had suspected. Arthur took his seat at the staffs table and sat himself between Professor Sprout and Professor Trelwany. The batty Divinations teacher with her googly eyes welcomed him with a toothy smile, a clumpy bit of porridge clung to her chin. Arthur smiled back, she might be a fraud but she was always a welcoming face at the table. Arthur turned to Professor Sprout and wished her a good morning. They started talking about how difficult some of the third years had been with many trying to skive off lessons with the ever popular Weasley’s Puking Pastels.

  
A crowd of seventh year Gryffindors strutted into the Great Hall and leading the way for them was Alfred Francis Jones, his gold like hair shimmered in the candlelight and his muggle spectacles provided a clear window to his sky blue eyes. Alfred smiled his cheeky grin that charmed many of the girls; a few Hufflepuff fifth year girls swooned whilst others stalked him with their eyes. On many occasions Arthur has had to snap a few girls out of their day dreams and apparent visions of romantic dates to Hogsmede or even wedding days!

  
Alfred was one of the most famous boys in Hogwarts, albeit behind Harry Potter. Though to be fair Arthur really could not blame the girls for being so lovesick over Alfred, if Arthur was a seventh year or if Alfred was an adult Arthur would have begun flirting the moment he laid eyes on him. However Arthur was not some lecherous pervert and so kept his distance, usually giving the golden haired Gryffindor the cold shoulder. Professor Kirkland was of course still a Slytherin, even after his graduation from Hogwarts.  
Professor Sprout noticed the sudden appearance of the Gryffindor crowd, “That Alfred boy seems determined not to graduate this year,” she sighed deeply “can’t say I blame him though, not with what’s going on outside.”

  
Arthur nodded mutely; his mind going back to the letter his mother sent him that morning.  
“Hogwarts is our fortress; you cannot fault them for wishing to remain safe,” Arthur muttered, his attention wandering back to his black pudding and baked beans, the food turning cold.

  
Not a moment later the familiar sound of Professor Snape’s nasal voice sneered, “Now ladies’ surely gossiping is below you?”

  
Arthur turned and fixed a glare at the back of the man’s black greasy head before sharing a look with Professor Sprout, it wasn’t just students who disliked Snape.  
Arthur shovelled his last piece of bacon and gulped down his Earl Gray tea.

“I better be off, I have fifth year Ravenclaws and Slytherins…”  
Professor Sprout and Trelwany nodded in understanding, no more needed to be said.

  
**

Alfred Jones eagerly watched Professor Kirkland stride out of the Great Hall, his eyes glazed over as they followed the man head to his classroom. Alfred was in love with Professor Kirkland, he had fallen for him the first time he met him, his most treasured memory. It was his fourth year and Professor Kirkland had just started teaching History of Magic after Professor Binns was “encouraged” to retire. Alfred had sat at the back of the class with his friends getting ready for the afternoon nap. Arthur had been walking round handing out new, freshly printed text books, once he reached his table Alfred used all his American charm into his Hollywood smile. Arthur had smirked and winked at him before walking back to his desk and Alfred swore he slightly swayed his hips.

  
Since that fateful day Alfred was unquestionably in love and hence determined to make Arthur his.

“I hate Mondays!” Dale Lee moaned, her chestnut brown hair hung limply over her eyes.

  
The new timetables had just been handed out and the seventh year Gryffindors weren’t happy. They had double DADA with Professor Snape, everyone was surprised that he had decided to leave his gloomy potions room, the last two years have not been fun for DADA lesson with toad like Professor Umbridge last year and the year before that the nutty, one eyed Professor Moody.

  
“Well at least we have History of Magic after lunch,” said Alfred, his happiness shining through like sun rays.

  
Giles Leviathan smirked; his dark tanned face broke out into a smirk “I bet you can’t wait to stare googly eyes at Professor Kirkland ass!”

The table broke out into laughs and kissy noises.

Alfred grinned.  
He wasn’t that obvious was he?

“Come off it will ya!” Alfred shoved Giles for good measure.

**

Arthur began his first lesson by trying to calm down a few already stressed out Ravenclaws, they were terrified of the year ahead and frankly Arthur couldn’t blame them. The Slytherins remained quiet and Arthur had to remind himself that he wasn’t just teaching the Ravenclaws.

  
“In the late seventeenth century the Minister of Magic, Robert Fitztoad, made an agreement with the once exiled prince, now King of England Charles II, who had seen his own father beheaded. They both understood that the two worlds needed to be kept apart. The many attacks and raids on Muggle villages and the witchcraft trials had shown the dangers of a fearful population. Hence the creation of secrecy of our world was, finally, created in writing.”

  
Arthur glanced back to the class, a Slytherin hand was in the air.

“Yes Miss Thistle?”

“I was just wondering why the Muggles fear us? After all they were the ones putting us on trials and executing us,” said the girl, her voice shaking slightly with nerves.

“Fear is a powerful thing, a good example is what happened last year, the memory of Lord –V-Voldermort’s reign of terror encouraged many people, perhaps including your own families to ignore the warnings, and attack those who said otherwise,” Arthur’s voice wavered with the image of blood red glowing eyes and flashes of green light. “The exact date when Muggles and Wizarding kind became violent is really debateable, but I would argue that the date does not matter but more to do with the unexplainable. The Muggle world is different to ours its alien to them just like how theirs is alien to us, something that cannot be explained scares us all.”

The classroom was as silent as the grave, they were all gripped on his every word.

“Now I want you all to turn to the first chapter on seventeenth century muggle and wizarding history.”

The sound of pages being turned and muttering filled the room whilst Arthur turned back to his desk. The hour continued in a normal way and soon the hour was up.

“Right for next week I want you to right a foot long essay on the differences in Wizard/Muggle relations in Oliver Cromwell’s republic and Charles II’s reign. Thank you and see you next time.”

The next three hours went by quickly with one lesson with Hufflepuff and Gryffindor first years learning about Pagan Britain, after them it was third year Slytherins and Gryffindors which was awkward to say the least.

Finally after a free period and a lunch it was seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins. Arthur would never admit it but he had been looking forward to this lesson all day. The reason was Alfred Jones, the smooth talking, tall, broad shouldered and golden haired boy who was unfortunately his type. Shame, bitterness and guilt crawled up his spine whilst a blush crept across his face. Arthur could never and would never touch a student but if he ever met Alfred years later, that is if they both survived this coming war, he would probably buy him a drink. He smiled faintly at the idea.

A sudden crash outside in the corridor disturbed Arthur’s thoughts, he stormed out of his classroom to see what the commotion was all about, it was the typical teenage angst and anger fuelled fight. Arthur pulled them apart with the wave of his wand and sent the two boys down the corridor to Professor McGonagall’s office – this meant he was a few minutes late for his class.

“Sorry I’m late. If you want we can make up for it by continuing into dinner?”

Moans, groans and cries of protests erupted from the class, at least all but Alfred who looked strangely hopeful.

“But I would rather have my dinner.”

Arthur grinned at the cheers.

“Now today we will be looking at the wizard resistance in Nazi occupied Europe and in particular we will be studying a German wizard rebel group known as Luther’s Phoenix Wing. Please turn your books to page three hundred and twenty three.”

Arthur sat at his desk as he spoke to the class, however he noticed Alfred angrily muttering to a boy next to him, Jacob Moon, who looked rather irritated. Not five minutes later the sound of two chairs clattering to the stone floor echoed throughout the room, the sounds of shouts and fists followed soon after. Arthur turned and saw that already Jacob had a bloody nose, whilst Alfred was doing slightly better.

“BOYS! WHAT ON EARTH DO THINK YOUR DOING?!”Arthur shouted and with a violent flourish of his wand the two boys went flying across the room.

Jacob Moon lay on his back clutching at his broken nose and moaning in agony, Alfred sat on the floor rubbing his bruised cheek but still glaring daggers at Jacob.

“TWENTY POINTS FROM SLYTHERIN AND GRYFFINDOR! Jacob! Alfred! Go to Madame Pomfrey and I will see you in detention tonight.”

Arthur fixed them both with a glare.

The students marched out of the room – Jacob still holding his nose.

**

Alfred growled as he watched Jacob’s hunched figure retreat to Madame Pomfrey’s room, the memory of the past hour still clung to his mind, refusing to let go.  
It had all started when Jacob started sneering about Professor Kirkland and his bushy eyebrows; Alfred had kicked him under the table but made no verbal reply. Jacob had wanted trouble and started to snicker about how queer Arthur is and that he is probably a Death Eater. Alfred lost it then, he couldn’t imagine Arthur being cruel and evil, he couldn’t envisage Arthur being surrounded by dark, looming cloaked figures with black snake like tattoos that danced across their wrists.

Before Alfred could stop himself his fist went flying like a snitch to Jacob’s fat nose and the satisfying crunch that followed drew a smirk onto Alfred’s face.  
Arthur had looked so disappointed, that expression had gutted Alfred, and he had never meant to let Arthur down – he never got a chance to explain.

**  
Arthur’s room was softly illuminated by the glow of the candles that hung on the stone walls, amongst the rows of worn, dark brown desks sat two boys both on the cusp of adulthood. Arthur was perched at his desk marking some third years essays, a frown marked his face, the year’s first essays were never a delight, usually full of spelling and grammar mistakes – some students seemed to have forgotten how to write over the six week summer holidays.

  
The sound of scratching quills was deafening and Arthur had wished he had thought of a quieter method of a detention, perhaps next time he’ll send them to Hagrid.

Jacob’s hand shot up, “Sir, Sir! I’ve finished the 200 lines!”

Arthur narrowed his green eyes at him and snapped, “Then do some homework then, you still have another hour.”

Jacob scowled and got out a Transfiguration textbook and a new roll of parchment.

Not long after Alfred put his hand up, “Professor, I’ve finished my lines too.”

“Well you can make a start on your homework.”

To Arthur’s surprise Alfred took out a History of Magic textbook and began making notes.

The hour went by grudgingly like a schoolchild waiting for the school day to end.

Arthur glanced at the clock on the wall, it was almost curfew.

“Alright boys anymore fights in my classroom and it’ll be the dungeons for you.”

Jacob whimpered and crept out to the dormitories.

The room’s only occupants were Arthur who remained sat at his desk, his eyes refusing to leave the fifteen inch parchment. Alfred remained rooted to the spot he was standing on; his tall frame resembled a dark, shadowy statue in the soft light.

“Didn’t I say the detention is over Mr Jones? I suggest you go back to your dormitory before curfew begins,” drawled Arthur, his tone of voice sounding rather bored.

“I don’t want to go back yet, sir.”

Arthur looked up in surprise and he raised one quizzical bushy eyebrow up at Alfred

Alfred sauntered up to Arthur’s desk, his long Quidditch toned legs stretching out in front of him making the distance between him and Arthur nonexistent. Alfred’s heart was beating wildly like a caged dragon trying desperately to escape, he had dreamed this moment for years, and he had planned this event all summer. Alfred licked his lips, his imagination springing up images of kissing Arthur’s plump, pink lips.

Arthur remained seated – confusion painted his face – _what did Alfred want, what the devil is the matter with him?_

Suddenly Alfred grasped Arthur by the shoulders and stood him upright. Arthur was so shocked that he was speechless. Alfred’s hands began to explore Arthur’s body with one hand stroking his arm whilst the other snaked itself around his waist.

_Oh shit…_

“Alfred let m-!”

Alfred had dived forward and planted his lips onto Arthur’s. The kiss was desperate, sweet and demanding. Arthur’s eyes were wide open in shock, but gradually he began to let go of all sensibility and sunk into the kiss, he moaned in defeat.

Alfred would have whooped for joy but he didn’t want to destroy this fragile moment, Arthur felt so warm and soft and his lips were so welcoming. Alfred felt like he was reliving the beginning of many wet teenage dreams, when Arthur moaned delicious memories of past dreams seductively danced through his mind. Images of Arthur snuggled up next to him, laughing with him, making out with him and moaning wantonly in his arms. Oh what a treasure they were but this kiss beat them all because it was real and not a lonely dream and not a brief whispered promise of what could be. Arthur was in his arms, this was no dream.

The fragile reality began to shatter into tiny fragments as Arthur seemed to regain his senses and struggled against the tall seventh year Gryffindor. Alfred didn’t want to scare him or anger him (even more) and reluctantly and painfully released him. Arthur looked up at him, his bottle green eyes were glazed over with unshed tears and a heavy pink blush stained his lightly freckled cheeks.

“W-w-wha-t, w-why did you k-kiss me?!”

Arthur’s voice wavered on the word ‘kiss’, he looked so scared, Alfred had never wanted to scare him.

“I-I love you!”Alfred shouted.

But before Arthur could even utter a single word Alfred had bolted for the door, abandoning his school bag, parchment, quill and books.

Arthur stood frozen for another minute or two trying to determine what had just happened, he turned and collapsed into his chair and buried his face in his hands, he needed help but couldn’t ask for it, he felt so alone. He decided to avoid dinner in case he accidently made eye contact with anyone or break down; he just wanted to Obliviate the incident from his memory.

**

Two weeks went by at the speed of the Knight Bus, homework continued to bury both students and teachers alike. The fifth, sixth and seventh years almost literally inhabited the library, much to the librarians’ dismay, and lessons went by eerily well.

Alfred attended every History of Magic lesson but he refused to look up from his desk or speak to Arthur and just like how he behaved in Professor Binns lessons he would try to nap or at least day dream during the lesson.

Professor Kirkland continued his lessons as if everything was normal, but he was growing more and more concerned about Alfred, his homework had barely passed N.E.W.T standards and he might as well be teaching a student short since Alfred seemed intent to sleep in his lessons. It hurt him; Arthur felt as if he was boring Alfred or that Alfred had lied to him or played a prank on him because he certainly wasn’t acting like he even noticed Arthur’s existence most of the time.

The seventh year class seemed to all be rather bedraggled, the news of Katie Bell being Imperius’d had sent a tremor throughout the school, no one could relax as the world outside grew darker and the darkness tried to seep into the old castle.

“Right everyone I need your homework now.”

Arthur lazily waved his wand; rolls of parchment soared through the air and neatly landed on his desk.

Alfred looked sheepish, guilty even.

“Mr Jones, where is your homework?”

Arthur’s voice was as cold as glacial ice.

“Er…I-I forgot to do it sir.”

Even now Alfred refused to look Arthur in the eye.

“Detention tomorrow after dinner, you can write it for me then.”

Alfred meekly nodded but still kept his gaze downwards.

The lesson ended and the class filed out of the door with Alfred gladly leading the way, sprinting to his next lesson.

Arthur sighed and begun preparations for his next class, he had no time to dawdle.

**

The detention came too quickly for Alfred’s liking and he made sure to sit in the farthest seat away from Professor Kirkland’s table.  
Alfred was just about to start writing his essay on the Centaur rebellion of 1848 when Professor Kirkland called him over, reluctantly leaving his seat he slowly walked up to his teacher.

“We need to talk,” said Arthur

“Yes sir,” Alfred muttered meekly

“Why did you kiss me two weeks ago and yet now act that I do not exist?”

Alfred couldn’t think of anything sensible to say, he just wanted to kiss Arthur again but didn’t think that would go down very well so he said nothing.  
Arthur scowled at him as he waited for an answer but Alfred refused to say or do anything. Arthur’s eyebrows furrowed and a frown marred his face and his arms were crossed, he looked the part of an angry teacher perfectly.

“Oh for fuck’s sake Alfred! I thought you said you loved me or was that all just a joke to you?!”

Alfred was astonished to hear his teacher swear, the man praised himself for being a proper English gentleman, to swear was certainly not gentlemanly.

“I-I-I do love you,” stuttered Alfred.

“Then why have you been avoiding me? Why have you let your good grades slip? Why do you love me?!”

Alfred couldn’t stop himself and before he knew it his arms encased themselves around Arthur’s body.  
Arthur struggled at first, he squirmed and twisted but to no avail, Alfred refused to let him go, not again.

“I didn’t want you to hate me and I didn’t want to endanger your career. My grades have been slipping because I have been practising for Quidditch tryouts,” Alfred took a deep breath, “and I don’t know why I love you, but I love your smile, I love how your eyes seem to sparkle whenever you talk about the past, I love how you are always willing to help others, your passionate, your beautiful and, and, and-“

Before he could finish Arthur had launched himself onto Alfred’s lips, his arms wrapped around Alfred’s strong neck, his fingers gliding through Alfred’s Snitch gold hair. Alfred melted into the kiss and held Arthur tightly against his body.

Eventually, after what felt like hours they broke apart, slowly and reluctantly.

“Follow me,” whispered Arthur

He rushed up the staircase into his office and through a doorway into him room, Alfred in hot pursuit. After locking and sound proofing the doors he sat on the edge of his bed called Alfred over.

The young adult crawled on top of Arthur, his hands exploring every available inch of him. Arthur wagered that if Alfred had a tail it would be wagging so wildly it would appear as a blur.

They continued to kiss and caress and mutter sweet things, promises and declarations of love to one another, their minds turned to mush as they followed the lead of their hearts. Arthur, knowing he shouldn’t but just couldn’t resist fell into the strong and forbidden arms of Alfred Jones.

**

Their relationship begun that night, after they had sex Alfred had refused to leave for his dorm and every time Arthur would protest Alfred would employ his many skills of persuasion, particularly his dick!

Arthur blushed at the memory.

They at least did set some rules down, apart from that night there would be no more intercourse until Alfred had graduated. Alfred had pouted at that. Another obvious rule was that no one was allowed to find out about their relationship; it was to be their secret.

Amazingly they seemed to find time for one another, sometimes when Alfred had a free when Arthur did (Wednesday mornings from nine till ten) they would sneak up into Arthur’s room and make out for a while. Other times Alfred would purposefully misbehave in class or just refuse to do his homework so that he could have another detention with Arthur.  
The weeks went by in a warm, pleasurable bliss. Arthur couldn’t hold his excitement for those small and forbidden moments with Alfred. For once in his life he felt treasured and wanted.

It was soon the last week before the break up for Christmas break. Alfred waltzed down to Arthur’s classroom and was about to step in when he saw Professor McGonagall talking to Arthur, they were speaking in hushed tones and whispers, Minerva had a pinched look on her face.  
He could only hear snippets of their conversation.

“…too young…its dangerous…I’ll speak to Dumbledore…”

Alfred’s heart was beating so loudly it seemed to reverberate throughout the cold corridor. Suddenly Professor McGonagall walked out of Arthur’s classroom.

“What are you doing here Mr Jones?”

Her voice didn’t seem angry or disappointed.

“I wanted to ask Professor Kirkland about the extra reading we have to do over the Christmas break.”

“Oh well, carry on,” said Minerva and she walked down the corridor, Alfred continued to watch her until she turned the corner and was out of sight, and hopefully earshot.

Arthur smiled at him, he looked drained of energy and his eyes seemed to droop dangerously.

“Hello Alfred.”

“Arthur what’s the matter? What’s going on? Does she know?”

Arthur shook his head, his shaggy dark blonde hair swayed lazily.

“No, no don’t fret, she doesn’t know.”

Alfred exhaled a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

Arthur beckoned for him to follow and they walked upstairs into Arthur’s bedroom, they both sat on Arthur’s bed but neither made a move, this was (unfortunately) not the time for pleasurable pursuits.

“I am going to be away for the Christmas holidays back with my family.”

This was something Alfred already knew, he looked confusedly at Arthur.

“You look like a puppy you know that!” Arthur grinned at Alfred whilst stroking his stubbly cheek. Alfred had forgotten to shave that morning.

Arthur’s face hardened into a serious look.

“Have you ever heard of the Order of the Phoenix?”

Alfred nodded his head; he had been part of the DA last year and had heard many legendry stories about the Order of the Phoenix.

“Well as you know I am from a very proud Pureblood family who have now declared their allegiance to You-Know-Who, thankfully I was able to convince Dumbledore to send my younger brother to a safe house for the Christmas break. Technically the Ministry have taken away my brother from my family as they were warranted as being unfit guardians for an underage wizard.”

Alfred knew Arthur’s younger brother; he was a second year Gryffindor who delighted in causing his older brother mischief.

“Anyway, during the summer break I joined the Order, and now Dumbledore has asked me to spy on my family over the Christmas break. I won’t be able to write to you and it will probably be best if you didn’t write either, it’s too dangerous and I have a sneaking suspicion that You-Know-Who will be paying a visit to my family.”

Alfred couldn’t understand how Arthur was not scared! Alfred had seen the faces of escaped Death Eaters on wanted posters, and being a Muggle-born he knew how dangerous the world was for him.

“I have to do this. If it helps the Order then it helps us,” said Arthur determinedly.

Alfred sometimes forgot that Arthur was a Slytherin, he certainly had the courage of a Gryffindor.

“I want to join.”

Alfred hadn’t meant to say that out loud but he refused to look away from Arthur’s eyes.

“Y-you can’t! You’re too young!” said Arthur in a panicky voice.

“I am only a few years younger than you, and besides I am graduating this summer and I will be an adult in the eyes of the law.”

Alfred had wanted to join the Curse Breakers at Gringrotts Bank but since a new war was about to begin this seemed to be a greater cause.

“But, but you’re a-a Muggleborn!” Arthur shouted, his body was trembling and his hands were bunched up into fists clutching at Alfred’s white school shirt.

Alfred was stunned.

“You think I can’t fight because I am not a Pureblood!”

Alfred said coolly, but his tone portrayed ice cold anger.

“No, no that wasn’t what I meant I-“

Alfred shrugged Arthur off his chest and stormed out of the room, his face scrunched up in fury and tears began to roll down his face. He’d never imagined Arthur would ever say that or think it.

_He’ll show him, he’ll show him._

For the rest of the week, no word was uttered between them. Arthur actively ignored Alfred whilst Alfred set about causing more trouble in class, like talking loudly and sending aggressive paper airplanes, but Arthur refused to rise to the bait. No detentions were given that week.

**

Arthur refused to cry when he watched the students file out of the castle and make their way to the station; he knew Alfred would be there, he had a longer journey to make as he had to travel via Port Key to New York.

Arthur’s words echoed through his mind, he had never felt so angry at himself, he hadn’t meant to hurt Alfred he just wanted to keep him safe and being a part of the Order was not the best way of staying safe. He sighed to himself and bade his goodbyes to his fellow colleagues before meeting with Dumbledore to go over his mission.

He reached the gargoyle guarded office and said aloud, “Jaw breakers.”  
The gargoyle leapt aside and allowed Arthur through.

For good manners sake Arthur knocked on the door anyway, he would rather not walk in on an embarrassing moment.  
“Enter” came the voice from inside.

Arthur walked into the office and he felt all eyes on him, literally considering the walls were completely covered with the portraits of past headmasters and headmistresses’, their wrinkled faces and beady eyes followed him as he crossed the room.

“Ah Arthur good to see you, have you packed all your essentials?”

Arthur nodded his head and for the first time that year he felt like a student all over again.

“Splendid. Now we must be quick, we don’t want to keep your Mother waiting do we.”

Arthur shook his head.

“I know it is a lot to ask but act as if you have reformed to their ways, act and speak like them, Severus will be there to assist you I’m sure. If you hear or see something strange or could be useful make sure to take note.”

Arthur nodded solemnly, he had expected this, but the image of Alfred’s upset face from earlier in the week flashed through his mind.

“One last thing, we’ve received intelligence that the Malfoy’s are planning something, we don’t know what but as we all know their allegiances it cannot be good.”

Once again Arthur nodded.

“Most importantly, if there is a real emergency then you apparate to Hogsmede and make your way here, the castle will protect you.”

“I hope it doesn’t have to come to that sir- I mean Dumbledore.”

Dumbledore smiled softly.

“As do I Arthur, as do I.”

A long pause permeated the air.

“Anyway, I hope you have a Merry Christmas and I look forward to seeing you in the New Year. Good luck.”

Dumbledore offered a smile and a reassuring pat on the shoulder, his withered black hand kept hidden under his long dress robes.

“Merry Christmas to you too Dumbledore.”

Arthur plastered a fake but hopefully realistic looking smile on his face and walked out of the office to his room, he finished packing and appaparated to his home, Black Moon Manor.

**

Alfred hated travelling by Port Key it felt like his umbilical cord was still attached to his stomach and that someone was trying to yank him forcefully down a whirlwind. Then again travelling by magic was never comfortable, he would have preferred travelling back home by plane but he knew his parents couldn’t afford to keep paying for his travel fares. Port Key was cheaper but made him feel sick for a good hour.

Once he left the Port Key border control he made his way out of the American Ministry of Magic, which was situated below the Statue of Liberty, where he caught a wizard driven taxi boat to the mainland.

Alfred finally reached Grand Central Station where he met his dad, step-mum and half brother, Matthew.

“Alfie! How have you been?! I hope you’re hungry because we have a proper Thanksgiving feast for you,” said Karen his step-mum, she was a kindly woman who always had a warm smile on her face, her chocolate brown hair framed her heart shaped face, standing next to Karen stood his Father – Jack – his blonde hair shone in the winter sunshine and his brown eyes appeared as melted pools of chocolate.

Karen along with his father and brother were gutted when they realised he couldn’t leave school for Thanksgiving, so they always delayed their Thanksgiving for when Alfred could return home for the Holidays.

They drove back home in his father’s silver Mercedes, Alfred hadn’t realised how much he had missed Muggle transport and other things. He loved Hogwarts it was after all his second home but nothing could beat the warm comfort of being surrounded by loving family.

At dinner time they all sat at the table and ate roast turkey, for traditions sake, and pepperoni pizza and they all listened to Alfred’s stories, and were completely hooked on this magical new world. Although Alfred made sure to leave out the rise of You-Know-Who and his affair with his Professor, that would probably not go down well.  
Alfred and his family all stayed up until past midnight, watching videos of favourite films and decorating the house with Christmas decorations, compared with the rest of the neighbourhood the Jones household was very much behind but like the delay of Thanksgiving so to was the decorating of the house.

It was finally time for bed, he bade everyone goodnight and neglected to brush his teeth in favour to collapse onto his bed, where he fell asleep still in his muggle jeans and school shirt. That night he dreamt of being in a tall foreboding maze like the one from the Triwizard Tournament, he could hear Arthur’s cries and screams of pain but no matter how fast he ran Alfred could never reach the centre of the maze, slowly Arthur’s screams got quieter and quieter until a flash of green erupted in front of his eyes and Arthur’s body lay still and cold on the ground. That was when Alfred woke up, coated in sweat and breathing heavily.

Matthew gazed down at him; his face marred with concern.

“Are you alright?”

Alfred nodded his head, “It was just a silly nightmare.”

“Well, breakfasts ready downstairs, so hurry up and have a shower, you reek!”

Alfred lobbed a pillow at his brother who laughed and ran out of the room, still pinching his nose, Alfred attentively and cautiously sniffed his armpit, reeling back his head hemuttered, “Perhaps I do need a shower.”

The days counting up towards Christmas were agonisingly slow, the presents under the tree and the delicious food in the fridge were tantalising him. But finally the big day arrived and as Jones family tradition, which Alfred and Matthew invented when they were five went to wake up their parents, was now reversed as the sleepy teenagers were grudgingly dragged out of their warm beds to unwrap their presents in the lounge.

Matthew got a new Hockey stick, the shape kind of gave it away and new skates, he also got the Lord of the Rings trilogy as well as a new coat. Alfred received a Games Cube console with three games, a brown leather bomber jacket with a white ‘50’ etched on the back and a book on a history of witchcraft (written by muggle who had no idea about the existence of the wizarding world). Alfred got his Dad a moving picture of a Quidditch team and he got his step-mum a music box in the shape of a snitch.

The extended family, aunts, uncles, grandparents and cousins, were due to invade around lunchtime and so Alfred helped his parents hide his magical gifts. Once they arrived they sat down on the long dining room table, it could probably seat the whole of Gryffindor house! 

They ate, drank, laughed and cheered their way through the day; Alfred challenged everyone to pull a cracker which was great fun though not many got the jokes and the paper hats all fluttered down to the red carpeted floor.

By ten o’clock that evening everyone was getting ready to leave, Grandma Sally pinched Alfred’s cheeks and said, “You look so much like your mother, she would be so very proud” whilst Grandpa Pete patted Matthew on the head as if he was still a six year old. Finally an hour later the last of the cousins had said their goodbyes and drove on home, everyone gave a sigh of relief. This was only a brief break as the Jones New Year’s Party would once again bring the whole clan to the house.

As Alfred lay in bed that night his mind drifted back to Arthur and he wondered how his Christmas was doing. Alfred soon fell asleep and was promptly haunted by the same dream he had the first night he arrived back home.

**

As soon as Arthur arrived at the Black Manor estate he felt a strong sense of foreboding, but he had no other choice but to brush it aside and head to the front door, he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing that his Mother had not banned him from the premises.

The manor was built out of black stone; the building was old, built roughly round the fifteenth century after the original was destroyed after the Giant Wars. However, the size of the place still rivalled the Malfoy’s estate which was far older.

Arthur took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, he rapt his knuckles on the grand old oak doors and waited to be allowed in.

The doors slowly creaked open like in those Muggle horror films, and there was Piddle the wrinkled house elf wearing nothing more than an old tea towel wrapped around him like a toga.

“Good afternoon Master Arthur, Mistress told me to take you to the lounge.”

And with that Arthur followed Piddle to the room; the many faces of his ancestors watched him walk through the entrance hallway with eager eyes and smirking faces. Arthur ignored them and they soon reached the lounge where his Mother, tall, willowy woman with blood red hair, pale skin and green eyes was elegantly stretched out along the dragon leather sofa.

“Mistress, Master Arthur has arrived.”

“Thank you Piddle, now get us some tea.”

His mother demanded, she had yet to get up from the sofa. The sound of a loud pop indicated that Piddle had left the room. Arthur glanced around the living room, nothing had changed since he last been there, the walls were panelled with dark wood whilst the flooring was dark tiles with animal skin rugs littering the floor haphazardly, the fireplace was a white marble with black iron grates and along the walls were tapestries of family lineages. There was nothing warm or welcoming about the room, there were no proud pictures of Arthur or his brothers nor were there any happy scenes at all, in the far corner stood on a podium his Father’s polished white skull which his Mother often cradled and caressed as if it were a newborn baby.

“Arthur my dear, I barely hear a whisper from you and then all of a sudden you say you want to attend Christmas dinner!”

Her voice was cracked, as if she had been crying.

“I have realised how important family is to me, Mother.”

His mother got up and slapped him hard across the face, his cheeks red raw and stinging.

“Where were you then when they took Peter away from us? If family is so important to you then where were you?!” his mother shrieked.

“I couldn’t do anything! Dumbledore would not listen to a lowly teacher like me he wouldn’t even give me the time of day! Besides I didn’t find out about Peter until it was too late.”

Arthur lied through gritted teeth, he had known exactly what Dumbledore had done, Dumbledore even asked for his permission which he gladly gave, and Arthur refused to see another brother be seduced by the dark side.

Biting his cheek painfully so as to create the illusion of teary eyes Arthur looked up into his Mother’s statuesque like face, her features were sharp and her eyes pierced him as if trying to fish out the truth. It seemed Arthur’s illusion worked as his Mother embraced him like she had once done when his Father had died.

Arthur clutched at his Mother, he loved her still, after all she was the one that bore him and raised him. They stood hugging one another for another moment. Piddle popped back into the room with a tray of tea and warm scones.

“So, what have you been teaching Dumbledore’s new recruits?”

Arthur grimaced at the term and though he might be forgiven for not intervening with Peter’s departure but he was still viewed as a traitor for working at Hogwarts.

“I have to follow a strict curriculum set out by Dumbledore and the Ministry, they’ve introduced a module all about just Muggle history.”

His Mother choked slightly whilst sipping her tea.

“Muggle history?! Why on earth teach something so useless!” she laughed.

“I believe it’s something to do with strengthening the ties between us and the Muggle world,” said Arthur in what he hoped a nonchalant manner.

“I have no idea how you or Severus Snape can cope in Hogwarts, it must be stifling.”

Arthur could not think of a reply so he just munched on his fruit scone.

“Where are George, Cameron and Ryan?”

His Mother smiled proudly, “Oh they will be back shortly they were sent on an errand for the Dark Lord a few days ago.”

Arthur’s heart sank as if to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, but he tried not show it.

“What kind of errand?”

Mother pondered for a moment, “I believe they had to drop into Diagon Alley to pick someone up for questioning, probably one of the Ministry’s or Dumbledore’s spies snooping around. Honestly I don’t understand why they can’t leave the Dark Lord well alone; he is doing our world a great favour.”  
Arthur nodded his head trying to appear like he agreed with every word she said.

“I suppose I better go and unpack.”

“Your room is just as you left it but I have made sure Piddle dusted the room and cleaned the bed.”

“Thank you Mother.”

Arthur walked up the grand staircase to the second floor where his old room was situated; the long, winding corridors were again plastered with disapproving eyes and ancestral skulls and vases of ashes. Arthur had never noticed before but his family seemed to have an unhealthy obsession with death!

His childhood bedroom had appeared to be almost untouched, it was as if his younger self had just packed off and left only a few minutes ago. The double bed sat proudly next to the almost wall length window which looked out onto ancient woodland, his posters of favourite figures of the past circled the room, the tall bookshelves at the opposite end of the room towered over him, the shelves still stacked with ancient tomes and new publications; even Arthur’s collection of softy, cuddly toys remained seated along the top shelf. Arthur collapsed back onto his neatly made bed; the scent was slightly stale but unchanged, it smelt of tea and his brother’s cigarettes.  
He never got round to unpacking his case, he was so tired that he didn’t even notice himself falling into a deep sleep.

Arthur was running, blood was running down his wrists whilst tears hurtled down his dirty cheeks – he was screaming as flashes of red and green hurtled past him, missing him by millimetres – a Cruciatus curse hit him squarely in the back and he fell to the floor, he cried out in agony – calling for Alfred, Dumbledore or anybody but no one came. A flash of green and a shrill laugh jolted Arthur out of his nightmare.

“Piddle has packed away your clothes sir. Mistress says Master Arthur needs to be dressed in his finest robes for dinner. Mistress says we have company.”

Arthur thanked Piddle and with a pop the house elf was gone.

_Company for dinner? It couldn’t be George, Cameron or Ryan?_

No Arthur had a sense that he knew who it was, the Dark Lord.

A shiver slowly crawled up his spine at the vague memory of bone white skin and devil red eyes that glowed ominously. Arthur speedily changed into his best dress robes, ebony; hopefully black would help him fit in with the likely Death Eater visitors.

An hour later Arthur emerged from his room having changed into his black dress robes and attempted to tame his shaggy blonde hair, he rushed down the staircase to the, when he got to the entrance hall he saw a number suspicious looking cloaked figures making their way to the dining room.

“ARTIE!” A voice shouted from the doorway.

Just coming through the front door stood a tall cloaked man with his hood down which revealed a head of reddish brown hair, the man’s eyes were a deep moss green and his pale face was sprinkled with freckles. The man wore a cocky grin on his face and a lit cigarette hung precariously from his open mouth.

“George?”

Arthur ran down the last few stairs and hugged his older brother, George chuckled at his younger brother but patted his back reassuringly.

“I ‘ear you’re a teach now.”

“Yes I am, and I hear you’re a newly enlisted follower of the Dark Lord.”

George broke out into a toothy grin and pulled up his sleeve to reveal a slithering black Dark Mark emblazoned on his white wrist.

“Cameron and Ryan have joined as well, it’s a shame Peter’s too young to join,” said George shrugging his shoulders, “but it won’t be long till we win you over.”

Arthur put on another fake smile.

“C’mon lets go and get some grub!”

George slung his arm over Arthur’s shoulders and they walked to the long dinner table where prominent Death Eaters like Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange also sat. The brothers sat down between their mother and Severus Snape, but the chair at the head of the table was left vacant and no one seemed to dare start eating or drinking – though Arthur’s stomach was begging for it.

“Who are we waiting for?” Arthur whispered to his brother.

“The Dark Lord,” said his brother, rolling his eyes.

As if a summoning charm had been said the doors flew open and there stood Lord Voldermort, his black robes seemed to have a life of its own as it freely danced as if there was a gust of wind. The tyrannical wizard’s skin was as white as bone and his thin lips formed a smile that did not reach his red gleaming eyes.

“I see we have a guest with us tonight.”

Arthur respectfully lowered his head and peered down at his empty bone china plate, though he couldn’t help but think that it was rude to call him a guest in his own home.  
The Dark Lord took his seat at the head of the table as if he were a king sitting on his throne. The man (if you could still call him that) summoned his demonic like snake where it slithered along the floor and purposefully brushed along the guests’ feet and robes.

Soon the house elves brought in the feast but still no one made a move to eat, it was customary for Lord Voldermort to take the first bite of the meal. Arthur hunched slightly over his growling stomach, his trembling hands rubbed circular motions on his belly in an attempt to soothe it but to no avail.

“Lady Kirkland you must be very pleased to have Arthur back, it has been quite a long time since he has been home, yes?” hissed Voldermort.

Arthur’s mother nodded, “Yes well after my husband’s sudden death Arthur didn’t know what to do with himself.”

That wasn’t entirely true. Arthur could control himself, he didn’t need an overbearing, conservative parent hovering over his shoulder.

Arthur’s father had died during an Auror raid on the Manor three years ago. His death had shaken the family to its core with his brothers swearing revenge against the Ministry. However, Arthur had felt torn, he had loved his father – though not an affectionate man and a harsh disciplinarian he had still helped and supported him. Arthur could still remember his father giving him piggy back rides on their Sunday walks through the grounds, and he could still recall many childhood moments where he sat on his father’s lap and listened intently to his many tales. Yet his father was a paradox, he could be the most kindly and loving – a model to all fathers, but on the flip side he could be cruel, cold and harsh – many times Arthur and his brothers would be whipped or slapped for speaking out of term or running in the halls. The death of his father had been liberating but also a crushing blow – knowing that Arthur would never hear his father’s deep, raspy voice or see his wrinkled face or icy blue eyes.

“I am sorry to hear about Draius’ death. I assure you that we will avenge your husband’s death and those Mudbloods will feel our wrath once again!”

A cheer erupted from the guests. George grinned from ear to ear his handsome face seemed to glow with uncontrolled pride; his hand tenderly stroked his Dark Mark.

“Now shall we eat?” Asked Lord Voldermort and with that everyone dug into the feast.

After dinner everyone dispersed to the meeting being held in the study where they were to debate membership campaigns, possible enemies and strategise their next attack. However another topic was added to the agenda that night, Arthur was the last Kirkland son (bar Peter) who had not swore oath to the Dark Lord. Arthur himself was not allowed into the room and so he stood and watched everyone walks in.

George walked up to him and patted his shoulder reassuringly, “Don’t worry Artie boy I’ll speak up for ye’h.”

“T-thanks,” mumbled Arthur.

Following behind George, Severus walked past Arthur briefly making eye contact, Arthur looked up at him imploringly. If Voldermort agreed to allow Arthur as a Death Eater he would immediately see Arthur’s true intentions and would kill him before he could say ‘shit’.  
Literally Arthur’s life was balancing on a knifes edge.

**

“My brother is one of the most intelligent wizards that has ever attended Hogwarts, he’s an animagus and he is from a strong Pureblood line, I can promise to you my Lord that he will not disappoint you,” said George.

“Yes well that may be all well and good for you Mr Kirkland but your brother does not appear empathetic to our cause, at the moment he is neutral but could potentially be swayed to Dumbledore’s honeyed words,” Snape replied.

The debate carried on well into the night, Voldermort nodding mutely, by three o’clock in the morning the cloaked Death Eaters marched outside and apparated away.  
“I’m sorry Artie but Snape somehow convinced the Dark Lord against you.”

Arthur hid his relieved smile with a cough.

At that moment the Dark Lord waltzed out of the study his dark robes fluttering behind him, “Arthur I believe you are not ready for us just yet. However, I have agreed that you will assist Severus when you return to Hogwarts, we must keep our enemies close,” said Voldermort, his serpent like face smirking down at Arthur.  
Arthur nodded and he bowed deeply.

**

The days approaching Christmas became blurred like a snitch at full speed, Arthur filled his spare time with marking essays and planning lessons for the new year. The picture of Alfred enjoying a typical Muggle Christmas day tormented Arthur throughout these slow days.

He loved him so much, too much.

The manor refused to celebrate Christmas in the typical way as they believed it was akin to becoming a Blood Traitor or worse a Mudblood. The twenty fifth of December hosted a small family get together with Arthur, his Mother and George, unfortunately Ryan and Cameron could not attend as they were still on a mission somewhere in London. Arthur had a sinking suspicion that they were trying to locate the Order’s headquarters. Whilst Peter was with his adoptive family in Sweden, hopefully he had the Christmas every little boy deserved Arthur thought with a small smile. The bloody git was annoying a lot of the time but he loved him – he was his baby brother.

The Manor was very sparsely decorated with reeves of ivy, holly and mistletoe were hung in the kitchen and dining room, and there were no pretty flashing fairy lights, no bright tinsel, not even a stocking.

Once again avoiding Blood Traitor and Muggle tradition there was no giving and receiving of presents, instead they ate a humble meal of roasted goose, although when their Mother left the room for the toilette George gave Arthur a book of dark spells and potions, the pages were old and yellow, the writing detailed how to turn an enemies eyes to burning embers and potions to set a person’s insides on fire.

“Just thought you might need it to impress the Dark Lord,” George muttered under his breath as their Mother walked back in, her nose freshly powdered.  
After dinner the family dressed in their smartest and darkest robes and made a small pilgrimage to the Kirkland’s family cemetery. They marched down the muddy path each holding a red rose.

Draius Kirkland’s tombstone was a faded white with lichen slowly growing along its sides; a bunch of dead daffodils had collapsed some months before and lay untouched. Their Mother crouched down and tenderly stroked the face of the stone as if it was their Father’s.

“My dearest, our boys are becoming men before my very eyes and the Dark Lord has risen again and he pledged to avenge your death. Oh my sweet…” She broke off into a suppressed sob her shoulders hunched, George rubbed her back reassuringly. George and Arthur did not say anything to the grave; they laid their roses down on the wet grass and kissed their Father’s grave.

For the rest of the holiday the mood remained sombre as if a constant funeral was taking place, the ghost of their Father and the war that was quickly approaching haunted the manor.

**

Arthur felt the tension drip away as soon as he entered Hogwarts Castle, his childhood home had long ago stopped being warm, welcoming or accepting like it should be, arguably it had never been that way – his parents and brothers loved him but only the parts they wished to see, they weren’t like Alfred, he loved him for what he was.

“Humbugs,” Arthur whispered to the gargoyle and it leapt aside.

Walking into Dumbledore’s office he felt like the castle was embracing him – enveloping him in its protected walls.

“Good afternoon Arthur, I do hope you had an enjoyable break,” Dumbledore welcomed him with a smile his half moon spectacles glinting in the candlelight.

Arthur sat down in the chair opposite Dumbledore’s desk and retold the last two weeks of the happenings at Black Moon Manor – Arthur lifted up his sleeve to show that he had not received the Dark Mark yet but Snape was under orders to watch over Arthur and keep him on the right path – to prepare him.

“I suggest you listen to everything Snape tells you and do not question him.”

Arthur nodded albeit reluctantly, he was not sure he could trust Snape he was working under the guise of Voldermort as his spy on Dumbledore and visa versa for Dumbledore, what were Snape’s true allegiances?

**

Days later the students all returned begrudgingly back to Hogwarts – many of them realising that their exams were just around the corner although students like Alfred seemed purposefully blind to that fact.

Once again Alfred refused to look at Arthur and sometimes refused to turn up to his lessons with Arthur – he was getting bloody fed up with this ridiculous teenage angst!

“Mr Jones a word,” said Arthur just before dispersing the class for their break.

Alfred solemnly marched to Arthur’s desk.

They waited for the others to leave the room and Arthur spelled and locked the door shut, he then got up and leaned up into Alfred’s face and tentatively kissed his lips – Arthur’s hands cautiously caressed his face before wrapping them around his solid neck.

Alfred stood as still as a statue not quite sure what to do, but he soon succumbed to Arthur and passionately kissed him back, his big hands slowly travelled Arthur’s body.  
Soon they unwillingly broke the kiss and walked up to Arthur’s room, hand in hand, once there they had completely forgotten their set rules – neither of them could restrain themselves and so Arthur melted into those strong and forbidden arms of Alfred.

**

“I am sorry for what I said last term, I don’t think your weak…but I don’t want to see you get hurt…”

Alfred reached across the bed and held Arthur’s naked torso, his hand rubbed soothing patterns on Arthur’s back.

“I’m sorry for being a dick,” Alfred murmured into Arthur’s hair.

“We’ve both been idiots,” said Arthur.

“Agreed,” chuckled Alfred.

**

The days turned to weeks and weeks into months, life at Hogwarts became more and more hectic as the war crept closer, the world grew darker and exams consumed every mind in the upper school.

Alfred barely had enough time to say a quick hello to Arthur before burying himself into another book, then again Arthur didn’t have much time to spare either as he continued to stress over possible exam questions and marking coursework.

It was soon the last days of May and Alfred found himself reading another article from the Prophet which detailed another pointless attack on both Muggles and Muggle-borns, six dead and thirteen seriously injured.

“It’s horrible,” muttered Dale Lee who read the article over Alfred’s shoulder.

Alfred nodded mutely, he’d been thinking about the Order and this coming war – he wanted to fight like Arthur and other like him were doing, he wanted to help and fight with them and become a hero. But he was still considered too young, his birthday was in July and he’ll be eighteen and an adult which meant he was eligible for the Order.

“They think they are picking off the weak when in reality they are the weak ones,” said Alfred glaring at the Prophet with such intensity to set it ablaze.

**

Arthur will forever remember that day in June, it had started out like any other day when a great commotion disturbed his free period – he peered down the corridor and saw students running, screaming and crying.

“Sir! Sir! Death Eaters have broken in!”

“Shit! Everyone get inside quickly!” Arthur shouted.

Students of all ages and houses came piling into the classroom some hid under desks whilst other hugged each other for comfort and support.

“Keith, Lucy and Tessa as Prefects I want you to protect the students from the inside, if anything happens to me, understood?” Arthur ordered.  
The three Prefects nodded, although they looked sickly pale.

“I will stand guard outside, I’ll send my Patronus – it’s a speckled grey horse – keep quiet and stay hidden.”  
With that Arthur slipped out of the room, he locked the door and cast a disillusionment spell onto the room – and he ran down the corridor.

**

Cloaked Death Eaters swarmed around the Astronomy Tower like black ants.

Alfred had been fleeing to the Gryffindor Common Room when he caught sight of Arthur's dark blonde hair flash by. Alfred ran after Arthur and saw him and plenty others fighting against Death Eaters, but one cloaked figure noticed Alfred and flung a Cruciatus curse towards him – it hit Alfred squarely in the chest and he howled in agony – but as soon as the pain hit him it disappeared just as quickly.

Through bleary eyes Alfred saw Arthur throw a stunning jinx at the Death Eater who appeared to hesitate when it came to Arthur – the Death Eater landed with a loud (and probably painful) thump on the ground, the man’s hood slipped down and revealed dark reddish brown hair.

Arthur was shaking and tears flowed down his smooth cheeks.

The fighting stopped abruptly and an anguished cry rang out throughout the entire school, the Death Eaters shrieked with laughter their faces breaking out into disturbing grins.  
The news spread across the school to students, teachers and Death Eaters alike – Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of our time – the lights greatest hope – has fallen.

**

Arthur would never forget his brothers shocked and betrayed face as he threw stunning jinx towards George, his pale freckled face was illuminated by the red light from his wand and as if in slow motion George half attempted to raise his wand hand in defence but it was too late and the jinx hit him in the gut and he collapsed onto the cold, stone floor.

**  
Alfred couldn’t care less if anyone saw as he held Arthur in his arms – both supporting each other, cradling one another in their darkest hour.

“That was my brother, George, he Cruicio’d you,” Arthur whispered into Alfred’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” said Alfred.

Arthur shook his head but said nothing more.

“I love you and I am fighting alongside you,” said Alfred.

Arthur couldn’t think of anything to say, he wanted to protest – that it was too dangerous – but no words came to mind and his tongue became tongue tied.

The blonde haired teen leant down and lightly kissed Arthur’s forehead.

The war had begun but who knew who would survive and who would win.

**Author's Note:**

> Phew! This was a beast to write but I really enjoyed writing it and this is the first fanfiction I’ve written that’s over 10,000 words.  
> I wanted to keep the ending open ended so you can decide how it ends, I also wanted to show a warmer side of a Pureblood family.  
> I’m really sorry for the long wait, my Beta cancelled on me (she’s currently buried under about three essays) and I have been busy with revision for my exam and my dissertation.  
> I hope you enjoyed it   
> Original prompt for those who were curious:  
> Pottertalia. Professor!Kirkland x student!Alfred. Could be flirting before they get together, or during secret romance. (Could be UKUS or USUK.)


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